


The Run and Go

by 2Hearts1BadWolf



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-08-13 01:12:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7956337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2Hearts1BadWolf/pseuds/2Hearts1BadWolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Based on the song “The Run and Go” by Twenty-One Pilots).<br/>I present to you the cliché, fluffy angst story of night terrors and seeking your best friend for comfort.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Nightmares

**Author's Note:**

> Hi humans! This is my first time publishing a fanfic so its really a flip of a penny chance on whether it’ll actually be decent or not. Feel free to review even if you have critiques. While this story is mostly inspired by “The Run and Go” by Twenty One Pilots, it’s also inspired by my lack of sleep lately due to unrelenting nightmares. Furthermore as usual for everything I write, here’s a dedication. So, I would like to dedicate this story to everyone. Except that little shit that decided to wrap the plane’s seat belt buckle in gross green gum, you are an asshole.
> 
> “I not only have my secrets, I am my secrets. And you are your secrets. Our secrets are human secrets, and our trusting each other enough to share them with each other has much to do with the secret of what it is to be human.” –Frederick Beuchner

I can’t take them on my own  
I’m not the one you know  
I have killed a man and all I know is I am on the run and go

Don’t want to call you in the nighttime  
Don’t want to give you all my pieces  
Don’t want to hand you all my troubles  
Don’t want to give you all my demons

You’ll have to watch me struggle from several rooms away  
But tonight I need you to stay

I am up against the wall  
I hear them coming down the hall

I have killed a man and all I know is I am on the run and go  
-“The Run and Go” by Twenty One Pilots

 

The burning field was mesmerizing. The blazing suns broke through thick smoke as if encouraging the world to perish. Their light pushing for heat to take place of the bitter coldness of so many beings hearts. The smog would shun the suns from the surface, but never for long as they burned back through the haze, drawn to the magnificence of a world in flames.

Perhaps if he had a longer time to gaze out upon the inferno, he would notice the beauty as well. How destruction and life were forged by fire. Yet, the same heat which beckoned other’s to submit to flame, shoved him forward.

Ebony fumes seemingly seared holes in his throat, further suffocating him with each ragged breath. Red flames licked up the sides of homes, consuming the world in its path, straining for the cloudless sky that thrived outside of this crimson ghenna. His eyes stung. Tears for the horror of this plutonian land scalded away before they could cut down his raw heated cheeks. With every pounding step, he nearly pitched to the side, as if the very planet desired to cast him from its surface. The words of the people of his world continued their steady repetition in his mind. A mantra of the dead. “Please save us. Rescue us. You said you would protect us. Do not let us burn too.”

He threw himself onward into the war torn hellhole. Images of people he’d known combated in his mind, demanding foremost attention. Their names screamed to be heard, to be remembered. Men. Women. Children. They all blazed as they unwillingly succumbed themselves to an excruciating death that he brought upon this land, dying from the smoke, the flames, or the enemy whose voices still echoed eerily above the screams.

“I wanted to save them, rather I let them perish. They are now no more than ashes and shadow.” 

Faces replayed in his mind, some were so small, barely a few years old, yet he let them burn. He’d let them burn because all was futile; there was no salvation, no surviving this war. In such battles as this, even the smallest of beings were a threat to the enemy’s survival. They were damned from the start. These people were now sentenced to a horrific death after so long of waging battles with the adversary. If there was any kindling of comfort in knowing it was not only his people who died but also the entirety of the enemy, he could not find it.

A sob ripped through his throat, his entire body weighed more than it ever had. He couldn’t get her face out of his mind. She was a small child, perhaps only a few summers old. She had been crying just before she died. Her eyes ablaze with fear of the unknown that surrounds the prospect of death. He clutched her tiny body closer to his pleading for a forgiveness he did not deserve. Praying to any deity in the universe for her pain to melt away and for her to discover peace in what lies beyond this mundane life. As she took her last breath, he felt her soul rise from her body as it drifted towards something outside of war. By the time he looked down her wide eyes stared glossily back up at the sky, a single tear cutting down her cheek. He dropped her body and ran. Since then he hadn’t stopped. 

The few survivors, who had escaped the blaze thus far, were now screaming in sheer agony as their bodies were submerged in curling flames. Calls beckoned him closer, pleading for him to rescue them from their fates. 

He kept running. 

At last, he reached the now scarlet fields, horrified as the blaze clawed its way across the ground. The branches belonging to the silver leafed tree he climbed on as a child were burning. 

This is the end. If even the destruction has reached here, all will be razed in a matter of moments. 

He scrambled towards the sole tree erect in the grass. Looking out upon the land as the last shards of hope crumpled within his soul. Then, he too felt a searing pain grasp ahold of his leg as fire began to claim him as another faceless victim.

All he heard above the thundering flames was a single word. Again, and again it was screamed. “Exterminate.”

He had always been the hopeful one, the eternal optimist with an ever-bleeding heart. Nevertheless, in those last few moments, he could be no further from such ludicrous convictions. This was destiny. This is what the entirety of all their lives lead to, predetermined and unavoidable no matter how they might try. 

A weak laugh ripped from his throat, all his dreams of extravagant adventures were shattered. This is his death. He laid down in the red grass, cheek pressed against the soft bed, allowing his body to at last seek out relaxation. The plaines blurred in a haze of golden light. The terrain seemed to beat its heart in time with the flames. In his last moment, there was a gentle cool comfort in knowing this death was a sense of justice for all the wrong he had done. The wars he had tried in blind arrogance to end. The people he killed and convinced to kill for him. All the lives that had been taken. Closing his eyes, he finally allowed himself to be consumed in fire, knowing this to be justice.

-… .- -.. / .-- --- .-.. ..-.

The Doctor woke up with tears blazing their way down his face, and a scream tearing from his lips. 

He barely took notice to the limply hanging sheets he had unconsciously shredded in the night with his tormented sleep. His mind was still being deluged with images of faces he knew; the people he’d left behind and the ones he was too late to save. Slowly he raised a hand, wiping sweat from his brow. His entire being shook with terror and anger as a vicious sob ripped from his throat.


	2. Comfort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who has read this so far! I was literally smiling all day yesterday. Anyways, final chapter will be up sometime tomorrow between my classes.

A despairing shout resounded down the Tardis corridors awakening a lightly slumbering Rose. 

This was not a new sound to her ears. However dismal it may come off as Rose was far beyond accustomed to snapping awake from her pleasant dreams to the frenzied noises of the Doctor in the midst of nightmare ravaged sleep. Nevertheless, it didn’t cause Rose any less panic than it had the first time.

Hurriedly she cast off warm blankets, exposing her skin to the frigid temperatures of a world beyond soft duvets. Clambering to shaky legs, Rose gave no pause for hesitation before sprinting towards the door, despite her vision spinning with a head-rush.

The corridor appeared dead. Nearly all the lights had gone out, causing the typically homely ship to elicit a sense of eeriness. Nonetheless, she shoved the thought from her mind and continued to run, hoping the dim blue illumination from floor lights would keep her from crashing into a coral strut.

By the time she reached the doorway leading into the Doctor’s bedchamber the scream had long since subsided. Rose didn’t bother with the politeness of knocking, rather threw open the door and proceeded forward into the room, propelled by her anxiety.

Upon entrance, only a few things were made clear to her. Firstly, the starlight colored sheets were in tatters. This was a common result from nightmares. Secondly, the room was still shrouded in ebony darkness. Odd, she thought, usually the lights are on by now. Thirdly, the Doctor’s back was pressed up against the wall immediately to her right. Rose had only even noticed because he surged towards her. His face streaked with sweat and possibly tears. His eyes were manic in the dim room. The only words to go through her mind at that moment was a heartbroken sigh of, Doctor, what in the universe did your head torment you with this time?  
-… .- -.. / .-- --- .-.. ..-.

“Rose.” He crushed her against him in a literally breathtaking hug. 

“Well, at least he recognizes me unlike last time,” Rose reasoned mentally.

“Rose,” The Doctor sounded desperate.

“It’s gonna be okay Doctor,” she tried to soothe. “I’m here. You’re not alone.”

He only held her tighter and more desperately. Voice breathless from the battle he took on with his bed linens. “There was a war Rose. They died.”

“I know Doctor, but right now, that was a dream, and this is happening now. This is real right now. You and me on the Tardis. You’re going to be okay; I’m going to make sure you’re okay.”

Rose knew how badly he was shaken, he’d had bad night terrors before, of course, he had. Nine hundred years of living and you see a few things worth waking you in the night in sweat and tears. But he seemed more desperate than the other times after dreaming of Gallifrey. He’d been angry, scared, depressed. But never desperate to not let go to this extent.

He buried his face into her neck, nearly trembling.

Rose carded her hand through his hair. “We’ll get through this together.”

More than anything, Rose wished he would believe her words. But his body continued to shake violently. Her mind raced in a scramble for words he might listen to. “Just breathe. Yeah? Just breathe.”

It was a slow process. He swallowed breaths like air was precious at first. Nonetheless, slowly, ever so slowly, his breathing calmed. In, out, breathe, release, again and again.

At last the Doctor backed away. Head hung. Eyes downcast. He looked so lost.

That’s when Rose noticed the blood.

How she didn’t notice it sooner she didn’t know. No matter. Now it streamed down his left arm, parts of it dried and other parts fresh. 

Instantly Rose was on him. Snatching up his arm to examine what she could in the minimal lighting. Part of her was furious. It looked, well, not terrible, but not good either. Her rational side of her mind reprimanded her, reminding her that he was too caught up in fear to notice his own pain. However, she told that side of her to shut it, considering her own fear that he managed to do this to himself. With what he did it with, she didn’t know. Nor did Rose have intentions on asking. She was dragging (gingerly, but still dragging) the Doctor out the door and towards the med bay before she even uttered a word. When finally the words came flowing out of her mouth she couldn’t stop talking. 

“How did you do this? Never mind I don’t want to know. Why did you do this? Wait, I don’t know if I want to know that either. Actually, I think I know why. I just can’t believe you did. And you didn’t even tell me! You just stood their bleeding. Okay, that was harsh, I’m sorry. Just you need to tell me next time, you hear? Doctor, are you listening to me?” She whirled on him now that they were both in the med bay.

His head was still hung, eyes adverted and he seemed to be out of words.

“Hey,” Rose said softly going to him. “It’s okay. You just scared me is all. I never want to see you hurt.”

The Doctor’s eyes still refusing to look at her, noticeably hardened. “I deserve a lot more than a bad scratch.” 

Rose hated what she heard in his voice. Darkness, anger, and self loathing.

“No, you do not.” She said firmly, before lifting up the dermal regenerator.

“Yes. I do Rose.”

“You don’t though!”

“I killed them, Rose! All of them! An entire world is dead because of me and what I did! Not even just the Time Lords are gone, others races were destroyed because of the Time War. This is my fault! I should of died alongside my people. That would have been justice!”

Rose wanted to scream at him. She hated when he did this to himself. He didn’t deserve this. No one did. No one, and especially not him. She was just about to respond, trying for comforting instead of anger, but he cut her off.

“Everything that keeps happening. It’s just getting worse. And I don’t mean the nightmares. Well, yes I do, but those aren’t just the point.” He looked up into her eyes then, “I almost lost you in Rome. And I can’t do that again. I always almost lose you. I don’t know how much more it is going to take until I really do mess up and I don’t win and you’ll be gone.” 

She sucked in a breath. Of course, she was jeopardy friendly, but he’d never brought it up after nightmares. They were never about losing her, and she doubted this one was either. But what made this different? Aloud she could only force herself to say, “You’re not going to lose me, alright? I’m never going to leave you. You and me will get through anything together.”

The Doctor remained quiet for a long moment. At last, he just said quietly. “She died. In my arms. Not long before I ended everything. She was just a little kid. Just a little kid, and she died.” He sucked in a breath. “I didn’t even know her name. All I know is I saw a little girl who was hurt and crying for her mother. I tried to help her.” Tears began streaming down his face, his eyes betraying the brokenness of his heart. “I swear I tried. But I just couldn’t. She was so far gone.”

Rose Tyler had always had a great amount of compassion for everyone she met. Almost above all else, she had compassion and empathy for the Doctor, and this was why. He was such an amazing being, yet he was so broken. He hurt in so many ways. The things that had happened to him should never happen to anyone, for they destroy some parts of a being that can never be repaired, some parts that make them “human.”

She didn’t even know what to say. All she could manage was a few words. “I’m not gone, Doctor. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. I’m sorry that happened to you, and I understand the pain you must be feeling. But I promise you, you’re going to be okay. Even if it doesn’t seem like it.”

He remained silent.

“Doctor? Doctor come here.” She grabbed his hand and pulled it up towards her neck, pressing his fingers against where she believed her pulse point was. “Can you feel my heartbeat?” 

He nodded slowly. 

“Good. For now, just focus on that.” 

After a while, his head came to rest just below her shoulder and above the swell of her breasts. Rose knew it wasn’t a romantic gesture, just something he did so he could hear the steady pound of her heartbeat while his fingers felt the dependable pulse.

By now the dermal regenerator was long since finished with its rather quick task of healing broken skin. The Doctor still needed a fresh shirt, though. One not quite so soaked with his blood.

Giving it another few minutes, Rose just wrapped her arms around him and held him closely. At last, she pulled away gently before tugging him to his feet.

“We need to get you cleaned up, and preferably back to bed. It’s what like two in the morning? Time for bed.”  
-… .- -.. / .-- --- .-.. ..-.

The walk back to his room was a short one considering the Tardis took pity on the pair, translating to mean she moved the door across the hall from the med bay.

Once back in the Doctor’s room, Rose dug through his drawer finding an old shirt before unceremoniously tossing it at him and turning her back in order for some privacy. Finally, he cleared his throat to signal he was done. 

Everything leading up to this was a rather unromantic affair. Of course, it was. It was just two best mates caring for each other in an utterly platonic loving manner. Yes. Of course. What best mate wouldn’t get up at two in the morning for the other? That’s how she reasoned that is. And maybe it was Rose’s determination to view this whole affair as purely platonic that made what happened next catch her utterly off guard.

As she turned around she noticed him laying in his bed. Without thought, Rose walked over to hug him quickly goodnight before heading back for what little sleep she could find. However, as she began to walk away his fingers laced between hers.

Without a word, Rose turned and stared quizzically at him.

“Stay.”

Rose gave an experimental tug on his hand, only to see panic rise in his eyes. No, he had had enough torment for one night. So with no further hesitation, she shifted to crawl into his bed beside him.

“Okay,” she breathed.

There was an odd sort of torment about being in bed with the alien she was in love with, yet who wasn’t in love with her. As if the universe was dangling a lifetime worth of chocolate just out of reach over a cliff and telling her all she had to do was jump for it. The thing is, she could smell him. His scent practically drowned her. It was soaked into the Tardis repaired sheets, stained onto the pillow cases and emanating from the Doctor himself. If one could get lost in a scent, Rose was coming pretty close to it.

Of course, that is always the moment the universe tries to throw someone a new one. Rip them from their safe perch. For Rose, that rip was the realization of just how bloody close she and the Doctor were. Nose to nose. Bodies practically pressed aligned to one another. All one of them had to do was “accidentally” shift a few centimeters and their lips would be touching.

Her heart pounded wildly.

Moments or hours could of passed then. It all felt like time was both rushing by at a dizzying speed and slowed down to crawling seconds. 

And then, his lips were on hers.

It was an utterly chaste kiss. Infuriatingly chaste. Shockingly chaste. All at once Rose expected him to deepen the kiss, yet also knew the probability of the Doctor leaping from the bed and not speaking to her for a week straight. After all, this is the being she had assumed up until the moment his lips graced hers, reciprocated none of her emotions.

As if the world could spin more out of control it was that moment the Doctor placed his hands on her hips. His tongue at the seam of her mouth, his fingers clenched into the fabric of her sleep shorts.

The kiss was by no means perfect, yet it was so very them. It was something that worked when it seemed like it wouldn’t. It was fingers in hair and tongues against one another. It was her straddling thin hips and him ghosting his fingers under her shirt. It was soft caresses and quiet moans swallowed by each other. It was deep, it was passionate and you can assume it was enjoyable considering neither party broke apart long enough to say otherwise.

By the time they leaned back gasping for air there was nothing left to be said except a quiet word whispered by the Doctor. “Stay,” he said. His eyes determined and, Rose hoped she saw, loving.

“I’ll stay right here, okay?”

He pulled her tighter against his chest, looping his arms around her waist, content in her weight atop him. 

Softly Rose kissed the underside of his jaw. “Never going to leave you,” she murmured.


	3. Understanding

She wakes up alone.

At first, Rose’s mind was too foggy to detect what was so wrong with the picture. It was a muddled mess of sleepily dreamed images fading as well as typical morning thoughts to include the prospect of breakfast and desire for a shower. But then it hit her in the face. Literally hit her in the face, for she collapsed groggily atop a new found pillow that instantly exploded with his scent. 

Rose was on her feet in less than a second. Scrambling out of bed, searching for the other occupant and mind a whirling repeat of “did we seriously do that?” Her vision swam unpleasantly but she ignored it in favor of clutching her stomach. She felt sick. Sick that he wasn’t there. Sick that they seriously kissed and he’d walked away. Sick that there might not be any going back from this. But most of all sick because he probably regretted it. Her mind frantically searched her memories trying to detect if at any point he seemed like he hadn’t wanted to kiss her as much as she’d wanted to kiss him, though nothing noticeably surfaced. However, that didn’t mean she hadn’t just been blind to his desire to escape the situation. The cold empty bed was if anything, a testament for his wanting to walk away.

“Rose,” she reprimanded herself, “get a grip. He probably just got hungry or bored. Go take a shower, grab some brekkie and then go find him. He’ll probably tell you the same thing you’re telling yourself, he was bored, he woke up, he had another bad dream.”   
She sighed in agreement, going to do as she’d instructed herself.  
-… .- -.. / .-- --- .-.. ..-.  
For the most part, she didn’t bother with hurrying. If someone accused her of going slow purposefully to avoid facing the Doctor she’d vehemently deny it. This, however, wouldn’t change the fact that it was most likely true.

Nevertheless, at last, she emerged into the console room to find the Doctor fiddling relentlessly with wires and knobs the Tardis probably didn’t want him actually touching. In fact, it was made clear he was meddling with things after he let out a yelp when sparks flew and crammed two fingers into his mouth.

“Oi,” he snapped. “what did you do that for?”

Rose suppressed giggling at his obvious annoyance. “Morning Doctor.”

To say he froze would be an understatement. The man looked as if he’d been doused with a fire hose filled with ice water. Or at least, that’s how Rose interpreted his posture. Stiff and firmly with his back towards her.

“Rose Tyler.” That was all he said.

They remained silent for a long moment.

When finally she mustered up the courage to begin reaching out and touch his shoulder, he scampered off as if she were a grenade ready to detonate. 

“Well,” she thought, “this is your proof Rose Marion Tyler. He wants absolutely nothing to do with what happened last night.” The very thought made her bristle. “Fine, than neither do I.” 

Purposefully she moved herself to place the console between her and the Doctor, always keeping her head turned or eyes cast away so she wasn’t forced to look at him, less he see her hurt.

The day was no better. She’d kept her phone in her hand all day so he couldn’t reach and grab it. She’d laughed bitterly because he’d “accidentally” taken them to the planet Vulron during their festival akin to Valentine’s Day on Earth. Most of all, Rose avoided any and all mentions of anything that could lead to a discussion about the night before.

“Stupid Bloody Time Lord,” was the mantra recycling through her thoughts the entire day.

By that evening she’d had enough. No movies. No reading in the library. All she wanted was to get into her pajamas and go the fuck to sleep and anyone who got in her way could very well sod off.

Rose made her way through the Tardis corridors towards her bedroom, not even bothering a glance back when she heard foot falls behind her. She was determined to get into her bed, the way a cat would be determined to pounce on their prey.  
-… .- -.. / .-- --- .-.. ..-.

Rose let out a soft sigh snuggling down into the pink duvet. She pressed her face into her pillow simply to embrace the softness of the sheets. “At last,” she thought, “an end to a rather horrible day.” That of course, was the moment the knocking started. As if the universe had decided she didn’t deserve this one bloody thing.

She paused a moment, holding her breath. Hoping beyond all reason the knocks would stop and the Doctor would assume she was asleep.

The universe cackled.

Without ever hearing a response, the Doctor threw open the door anyway to an annoyed Rose. Annoyed, until, she saw his face. He looked utterly akin to a petulant child. 

“Rose,” he drawled. “What are you doing?”

“Sleeping.”

“Then why are your eyes open?”

“You woke me up,” she snapped.

“Hm, I don’t think you were asleep.”

She huffed in response. “Well, I was so get your scrawny arse out.”

That was all it took for the Time Lord to triple in his petulance. Narrowing his eyes he frowned deeper. “Why are you in here?”

“This is my room Doctor. Or did you forget that?”

The Doctor paused. Almost as if he were at a loss of words, but far more likely that he had too many and wasn’t quite sure how to voice them all. At last, he muttered, “I thought I made all of this clear yesterday.”

“Oh, that bloody well does it.” Rose threw off the duvet, clambered out of bed and shot him her best glare. “And what exactly did you think you made clear yesterday? Because you didn’t make a damn thing clear. In fact, you rather bollocks up all the clarity.”

He gestured meaninglessly between them. “This.”

“What this? There is no this!”

“Yes, there is.”

“No there really isn’t.”

“How did I not make my intentions apparent?”

“How the hell did you? How could you of possible made your intentions apparent when you didn’t say anything about them!”

That tripped him up a moment, causing him to scratch the back of his neck before saying quietly, “well I just assumed you knew.”

Rose felt like yelling at him if she wasn’t already. “No, I didn’t know! Look, humans need things spelled out for them when it comes to stuff like this!”

He didn’t respond. Just stared at her.

Before she could even react, he was across the room and under the duvet, shifting so he was buried deep under the mounds of blankets and tangled sheets. 

“What,” she said, “in God’s name are you doing?”

“Spelling it out for you,” he deadpanned.

That caught her off guard. Rose stood there a moment before rolling her eyes. She honestly tried to stay mad. But she was staring at the Doctor, in his jimjams, buried under piles of pink, who was doing his very best to look like a hopeful puppy. She stayed quiet another moment before walking over to the bed.

“Shift or I’ll lay on you.”

He grinned back at her, “hm, that might be preferable.” 

All of her annoyance shattered in a bought of giggles as she swat him playfully until he moved to make room for her.

“So tell me, Doctor, if you wanted this,” she gestured between them, “why did you act like you didn’t today?”

“How did I act like I didn’t.” He looked genuinely confused.

“How, how,” She stuttered. “How didn’t you? You were gone when I woke up, you wouldn’t even look at me when I walked into the console room…” Rose looked down unsure of herself now that she was rethinking the way he’d behaved.

“Well, first off it was because I was hungry. Then when I went back you yourself were gone. Secondly yes I didn’t look at you because I was too afraid I’d pin you against the console and snog you senseless.”

Rose blushed. “Well, you didn’t hold my hand either.”

“You held your phone in your hand so I couldn’t,” he countered. “Besides, I even took you to what’s similar to a Valentine’s day festival. How was that not clear?”

“I thought that was an accident,” she muttered.

“Rose,” he cupped her cheek pulling her head up. “We did a lot of miss reading today, didn’t we?”

She nodded.

“Well. This should clear things up. I want this.” He leaned in and kissed her gently. “I don’t want you to be gone one day and have me always wonder ‘what if.’”

She nodded again, half listening to his words and half just wanting him to kiss her again. Deciding she’d done enough waiting and listening she leaned in herself, pressing her lips to his.

The kiss was slower than the night before. Just as soft, but more chaste. They already knew each other now, the way a little child knows with certainty their favorite ice cream. So they laid together languidly, going slow and just reveling in the fact that “finally they can do this.”

Finally, they were together. There were still fears, still doubts, still, things that could get in the way, and things that will, but for now they were together, for now, they were content.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who read this! Hopefully I get better at publishing. If I do, then you will see another story next Friday. Cheers!


End file.
